Last Heroes of Earth
by LastSonOfOlympus
Summary: After the Heroes of Olympus series, a new evil arises, and only one hero can stop it. The only problem: He's too strong, so the gods of Olympus cursed him with the absolute strangest curse- he can now randomly teleport with no telling when or where he'll teleport to. Join the rest of the gang as they embark on a quest that will change the word 'fear' forever...
1. Chapter 1

Last Heroes of Earth Ch. 1: Prologue

June 21, 2011. Location: Amazon Rainforest. 2200 hours, Eastern Coastal Time.

At a stained oak wood table in a silvery room, twelve of fourteen chairs have been filled. With guards all over the place, everyone feels secure, even though the guards can freely kill anyone on sight with even the slightest thought of a traitor in the room. And not much could be heard with a baseball game playing on the TV at full blast, not even the iron door opening, the loud taps of hard rubber heeled shoes, or the slamming of the iron door behind the tall skinny man.

"Silence!" a guard shouted. Every person in the room turned to the slender man at the head of the table. The silence in the room was so dramatic that you could hear a fly buzzing twenty meters down the hallway.

The thin man turned to the guard who shouted. "Thank you, G031, that was much appreciated," he said. The guard just nodded in response.

The man took a seat at the head of the table. "Please be seated," he called out. "This meeting is now in session. General Storm, what is the progress of the training?"

A tall and bulky man in a military uniform stood. "Experiment number 1050 is, so far, our strongest trainee, with one hundreds in strength, speed, intelligence, and torture resistance, but he hasn't spoken one word since we put him through the torture resistance test. Experiment number 5060 also has a one hundred in intelligence, strength and speed, but when we put him through the torture resistance test, not one guard has come out since, which can mean one of two things; either he died and the guards killed themselves, or he killed the guards the instant they started. I know that you do not accept failure, and I will take any punishments you put towards me."

"Good, because you have been in control of security for far too long. My child, my son, come and enter this room. You may come in, Tyrannosaurus Imperator," the man called to another set of doors on the other side of the room.

The doors slammed open, and a young man walked in. From his first appearance, he looked scared, but John knew better than to think that. The boy was hungry, and his target was the General.

"A boy; a boy will replace me as General," the General asked. " He's not even fifteen years old! And look at how hungry he—looks. OK, but how will you—never mind that."

"Good luck living while you can, sir," said the boy, now smiling. As he said that, he started to grow in size, first to a truck, then a semi, then a house, his arms growing smaller, his head elongating, growing sharp teeth, his skin growing scales. Pretty much, he went from young man to Tyrannosaurus Imperator in seconds.

"Oh, my God, what is that monster you've created, Firestorm?"

_**BOOM!**_The General was no more.

"As I said, good luck," said the man-dinosaur. His voice was husky in his new size.

"For your information, Willie," Firestorm explained, "this 'monster' that I've created is my son, and he was both insulted by your remark and very hungry. So I suggest that you never say that again next time. If there is a next time… "

And all through the building, you could hear the screams of all of those in that room as they were taken down, one by one, by the new predator on the loose. All of them, that is, except for Firestorm…


	2. Chapter 2: Jamie Wayne

Last Heroes of Earth Ch. 2: Jamie Wayne

Sorry for the wait, fellas, but the Computer that I used on the 29th forgot everything that I had typed for the other chapter. It even forgot the file itself. So I'm sorry for the wait. Enjoy, read and review. Don't give me any deconstructive comments, or there will be consequences, the max being a banning from the story. Don't give me any attitude, or I will get very angry, as I have way more than you ever will. And if you think that I'm a girl, reverse the thought. I am a 15 year old boy, over six feet tall, and smarter than most people will be for most of their lives. Don't get impatient, or I will unleash some of my anger in the next chapter. And yes, I will list names. If I scared you, I am sorry, but I have a HELL of a busy week. If you're in a high school marching band that knows about Frenship High School, you'd understand. Enjoy, read, review, sorry for OOCness (Out of Characterness) and if there are any problems with the story or ideas for the plot, review. Those are really helpful.

Location: Fort Worth, Texas. Time: 1030 Central Time. Day: August 31, 2011.

I am in BIIIIIIIG trouble. No, really, my teacher is trying to kill me with his horns. Yes, you heard me right. He has horns. He's the freaking Minotaur, for Pete's freaking sake. I'll relay the story in the short and bittersweet version.

I was in Latin, working on my Roman history project. Of course, the bell had to ring while I was working. So I got to Athletics late. Senor Torus asked me why. I said I was working on a project in Latin when the bell rang. He got angry with me. Apparently he didn't accept that as an answer. Then he said we were about to do a Roman bullfight. So here I am, fighting my demon bull teacher. With no weapons other than a red cloth and my bare hands.

"I can SMELL you, boy," screamed the Minotaur. I was hiding behind a pillar in the arena we somehow teleported to.

A brief description of where we were: we were basically in a roman coliseum made completely of obsidian, pillars scattered all over the place, and a roof with stalactites over the place. I was currently behind a pillar in the outer rim of the arena. Mister Minotaur was in the middle of the arena.

"Where am I, Senor Torus," I asked. "Please tell me. I don't know where I am, and I certainly don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to be at home, in my bed, sleeping."

"I don't know where we are either," he replied. "But I want to destroy you, half-blood, whether you want the same or not."

That is what I feared. I didn't want to die here in this strange place. But I did know that if I wanted to at least survive, I would have to kill the Minotaur. That decision changed my life forever, but if I didn't do it, then I wouldn't be here now, relaying this story.

"Half-blood? What on earth is that," I asked, this time trying to get under his skin, as I've studied the Minotaur enough to know one of his weak spots: he has terrible vision, and solely relies on smell and hearing, and if I aggravated him enough, he would have cloggy thoughts. "Is that some kind of—oh, no, you don't mean half human and half Olympian, do you?" Now I was trembling with fear.

"Now you've got it, Fourth King," he said with false enthusiasm. Fourth King, I asked myself. Zeus was the first king, as lord of the skies. Poseidon was second, as the Sea God. But who was the third king?

"A son of Hades is enough, but now this is the biggest challenge that I've had all my life. Jupiter, Poseidon, AND Hades. You'll be fun to kill," he shouted, starting to charge. By the name of the Primes, if he was talking to me, then I'm pretty damn POWERFUL. I already knew I was a telepath, what with all of the stopping bullies in the school with a simple thought.

"If you happen to be right, then you'd be dead already," I called back, completely calm and blank minded.

"You're DEAD now, BOY!" The Minotaur began his charge. To put it lightly, things got interesting and in my favor after he said that.

"BOY! Are you calling me a BOY? YOU'RE DEAD NOW, MINOTAUR!"

Then my vision went red. No, my vision didn't just go red, oh no. It had to go infrared. My mind was no longer clear, my arms had a black, white, and sea green fire on them, and the Minotaur was now backing away as best he could, failing miserably as he fell backwards. I started charging him, now that I had a chance to hit him.

"My name," I yelled in his face. "Is James Quincy Wayne! And you have made a very FATAL move by pissing me off!"

I threw my fist in his face, causing a shockwave so big that the walls of the coliseum caved in. But hey, I survived, the Minotaur was gone, and now I could leave.

It took me a while to figure out how, but I finally got a way to go back home. The way, you might ask? Well, I sort of flew, sort of not. Sons of Jupiter can apparently do that by controlling the air around them. How that's possible, I've got no clue. I flew until I found someone who could help me. He said that I was in Rome. Wow, that is a long way from home.

"Where are you from, young man," he asked me.

"The United States of America, sir," I responded. "South Texas, the city of Fort Worth. East Quarter."

"Then I can only get you a plane ticket to Dallas and the money to take a bus back to the East Quarter of Fort Worth. Would that help any?"

"Yes, sir, it would indeed help me to get home. Thank you very much."

Just as I was about to leave, he touched my shoulder. "One more thing, before you go," he said. "What is your name?"

"James Quincy Wayne, sir. Why do you ask," I replied.

"Your old western ancestor was a son of Hephaestus and Hades. You are very lucky to have the blood of a gunslinger like him." He was now speaking in English instead of Italian.

"Thank you, sir, for the compliment."

About twenty-four hours later, after touchdown, I was getting off, when, all of a sudden, two very strange people grabbed me.

"Explain yourselves now. I've just got back from a very strange incident in Italy," I demanded.

The blond girl stepped forward. "We heard all about that incident. That's why we're here. My name is Annabeth Chase, and this here is Percy Jackson," she said.

"I know that, 'cause I can read your minds. You're from Camp Half-Blood, a place for Greek demigods. You don't really like your camp director, Dionysus, who always gripes. And Percy, I am not a monster. I am a mortal like you, except my mother was the daughter of a son of Jupiter and a daughter of Poseidon, and my father was Hades. And I derived all my parenthood from the Minotaur, who fought me back in Italy. Therefore, I am not a mortal form of the Minotaur."

Percy blushed so deep that I thought he was going to turn into an apple. "Hey, it's not my fault that I'm a telepath," I informed him.

Percy mouthed and muttered to himself 'wow'.

"Okay, so when are we going to leave this awkward place and go to the camp. What do you say, Annabeth?"

She just stood there, shocked. Then she responded. "Right now. We're leaving right now."

Okay, guys, if you want to, ya'll can suggest some characters to me. Make sure you tell me their sides (as in their alliances), and other info that would be useful. See you guys next chapter.

-Joshua (that's my real name)


	3. Chapter 3: Persia's First Strike

Last Heroes of Earth Ch. 3: Persia's First Strike

Well, I see that I only have, like, 91 readers and almost 150 views but no reviews, I'm starting to think that ya'll don't like my writing. So here's my proposition; if you tell me what you want in the story via review, I'll read those reviews and I'll make it to your liking. Otherwise, I'll just write the story to my liking. Either which way, I need reviews from you guys. I'm not going to start review limits. I'm only going to keep writing if I have viewers.

Sorry for getting snippy, guys. Here's the chapter I've probably bored you guys over.

Location: Dallas, TX. Time: 1000 hours Central time. Day: September 2, 2011.

(Jamie Wayne)

"How did you get here, anyways," I asked.

"Um, he's a little tired right now," Annabeth replied.

"He? You rode a young man all the way here?"

"No, but he can Shadow Travel."

That stumped me. "Huh?"

"That basically means he can teleport anywhere, but can only do it once without wearing himself out. He's a son of Hades," Annabeth explained.

"I can teleport randomly, fly for about five hours, and punch the Minotaur so hard that it has a concussion blast radius of about three quarters of a mile. Can he do any of that," I questioned.

"Let's just go, guys. I'm hungry," said a pale, black haired boy.

"Nico's right, we'd better leave before something bad happens." Annabeth can sometimes be a pain. Little did I know that she was, indeed, right about one thing; something bad was bound to happen soon.

Location: Dallas, TX, outside the airport. Time: Unchanged. Date: Unchanged.

(Tyrannosaurus Imperator)

"So, we have the target locked," Tyrannosaurus asked.

"Yes, sir," said a soldier.

"We have the weapons engaged?"

"Yes, sir."

"We have the Persian Catapults ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"The WHAT," another soldier asked.

"Oh, you'll see," Tyrannosaurus calmly explained. "In the meantime, arm the Catapults. I want no survivors from this American airfield. I'll tell you when to fire."

"Yes, sir," shouted twenty of the nearby soldiers.

Tyrannosaurus walked over to the main viewing screen, as they were not in the United States. Now, they would see the full strength of the newly formed Persian Empire. Now is the time to rebuild the greatest empire in the entire world, which was wrongly defeated by the Greeks. Now is the time for our forefathers to be recognized as the greatest in history.

Just then, his personal phone started ringing. When he checked the caller ID, it was Firestorm.

"Yes, father," he answered, already knowing what he was going to say.

"Now is the time. Fire on those Greeks in the name of the Persians. Now is the time."

"Yes, father." I ended the call and yelled the command.

"Now is the time. FIRE IN THE NAME OF THE PERSIANS!"

The catapults that were loaded released the pressure behind them, forcing the explosive ammunition away from the catapults and towards our targets. All was going as planned…

(Jamie Wayne)

Just then, I heard a faint _BOOM_, and not a second later, a small _CRACK_, so it was like a _BOOM-CRACK_.

"Did you guys just hear that," I asked. Silence.

"I didn't hear anything," said Percy. He can be such an obvious dumbass sometimes.

"SHHHHH," I screamed. Oh, we heard something, alright. It sounded like a small airliner, but it was closer to a cannonball flying through the air.

"HIT THE DECK," I warned. I was a little too late, as the wall closest to me exploded, sending me to the wall opposite the explosion. And that moment was proof that you can, indeed, surprise a telepathic demigod. I slammed into the wall face first upside-down. And I know what you're thinking, 'ouch, that had to hurt', and oh, yeah, it hurt like hell squared.

I peeled off of the wall feet first. I sighed. This is the second time this week that something like this has happened.

As soon as I stood up, I saw what had hit us. Catapults, probably Persian style, and the ammunition looked like C-4.

"Oh, holy hell, no. Not happening. This is not happening. I'm having a nightmare. They're probably Al Qaida members. No, because they've got catapults. They're PERSIANS, FOR PETE'S SAKE," I rambled on.

"Whoa, mustang. Calm down," said a calming voice.

I was about to argue with them, and when I looked up, I froze. My jaw dropped, arms fell, eye twitched, and then I fell on my face again. Damnit.

"Surprised," questioned the voice.

_BOOM-CRACK_. I looked up to see two fiery mounds of C-4 flying straight at me.

"Oh, by Primus, GET DOWN," I screamed, covering my head and waiting for the bang that would end my life. But it never came, because when I looked up, the two mounds were levitating.

"Whoa, how did you do that," the voice asked.

"Long explanation, an' we don't have time for them, Silver-glow," I said, partially flirting with her, partially being dead flat honest.

She looked at me, seemingly curious. "Are you Jamie Quincy Wayne," she asked.

I tossed the C-4 back to the catapults. "Oh, hell, yeah," I bragged, not meaning to brag. "If you can shoot a gun faster than I can, then you've got to be John Wayne."

"Then I have a gift from your true father," she said, apparently not amused. Then she pulled out a twist pen. "This is not what you think it is. It is a powerful weapon, very accurate, and can cause a ton of damage. If you twist the cap left, it'll be a sword. If the other way, a pistol."

I just stood there, confused. Then I started a little glare. "Oh, really," I challenged. "If this is from my father, then who is my true father?"

She stepped back, a little shocked from my remark. "I can see into your spirit. My mother is Psyche, goddess of the spirit, so don't ask why. But for some reason, I can't tell who your true father is. Instead, I only see a dark pain inside of you."

I whistled. Wow, she was GOOD. I took the pen from her offering hand. "Thanks for the info, but who are you, anyways," I asked, hoping she would tell me.

"I'm not telling you my name. All I'm telling you now is that I'm one of the Hunters of Artemis, and if you even think that you like me, I will hammer your head into the ground. Understood? Good, I'm glad," she snapped, marching off on her lonesome. And, that is why I hate girls who like going about on their own.

I looked to the pen that was in my hand._ If you twist the cap left, it'll be a sword. If the other way, a pistol._ Okay, let's test, I told myself, twisting the cap right. Just like she said, it transformed into a pistol, Colt Revolver, which model I can't tell. That was cool.

"Whoa, now that is cool," Percy said behind me.

"Exactly my thoughts, Perseus," I said, him recoiling at the name. "Sorry, I forgot you don't like that name. Now let's go kick some maniac butt."

_BOOM_. And another wall falls.

"This is my homelands, dumbasses! You want my homelands, try and kick my ass, hooligans," I yelled, knowing of a little war tactic. Piss the enemy off, they pull out explosives, easy win if you've got a gun.

"DUDE, WHAT THE HADES ARE YOU THINKING," Nico yelled in my face.

"I'm using an old war tactic, dumbass," I yelled in his face. "Don't make me cripple you, dude. I know what I'm doing."

Sure enough, when I turned to face the catapults, they had more C-4. Perfect, as I suspected and expected.

I pulled the hammer of the pistol to the side, and it became a double barreled shotgun. "Cool," I said to myself. "All the better."

I lined the sights up to the biggest pile of C-4 they had. "Gotcha now, no-brainers," I mumbled as I pulled the trigger. _BOOM_. And the shockwave hammered into me like I was a nail in wood and it was, well, a hammer. Not another face plant.

After the smoke cleared, I saw that there was nothing left of the catapults except for one pile of flaming embers.

"Good gods, something tells me that wasn't C-4," Annabeth muttered, obviously worried.

"She's right, that wasn't C-4. That was Olympium. One kilogram of that stuff and you'll get the force of ten tons of TNT. They used both. Mostly C-4, but they used Olympium, too. We've got to get to Camp Half-Blood NOW. If there's anything left of it. I've got the money to get us to Lubbock, TX. We'll fly from there. You'll lead the way from the airport in New York. It isn't a big plan, but it's a plan. Hurry, guys. Time's a-wasting."

Thank you, viewers, for viewing. PLEASE REVIEW! I can't read your minds, you know. I am accepting OC characters. And read THE BEAR AND THE EAGLE by MicDunD. His story inspired mine. If you're reading this, buddy, review, please. I really want your opinion on this.

GOING OVER PAST EVENTS; THE PERSIANS HAVE ATTACKED FORT WORTH, TEXAS, WITH A WEAPON THAT CAN KILL THE GODS OF OLYMPUS! WHERE WILL THE PERSIANS STRIKE NEXT? JAMIE NOW HAS A POWERFUL WEAPON GIVEN BY HIS TRUE FATHER, WAYNE. WHAT OTHER SECRETS DOES HIS WEAPON CONCEAL? DOES JAMIE HAVE FEELINGS FOR A HUNTRESS? HOW WILL THE CAMPERS TREAT JAMIE? FIND OUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!

And, by the way, I am completely annoyed by your ignorance to review, so I am going to go to give a review limit of one per posted chapter. And no, that does not mean that I am expecting you to review for each chapter, or to review three times, or a combination of the two. I AM, however, expecting you to review once for this chapter in order for me to continue this story. If you hate me because of what I'm doing, well, good news for you, because I hate me, too. However, if you hate me because I ain't popular, well, fuck you, too, buddy, because any hate reviews are not accepted. And 'I lik tis stori' ain't a review. However, 'I like this story because of 'this, that, and the other', but could you work on this, please'; THAT is acceptable. Asking me questions I won't count, but I WILL answer them in the next chapter. And if you have story suggestions, either review or PM (private message, for those of you who are new like me, sort of) me, and I will consider the idea for a story, but no promises that I will ever publish that story idea, so don't get upset if I don't publish your story idea. And besides, I have a life outside of Fanfiction. And if I embarrass you, I'm sorry for the embarrassment.


	4. Chapter 4: Suprise!

Chapter 4: Pain, pain, and more pain.

Okay, I did indeed get a review, and you who reviewed, thank you for the information. I seriously appreciate it. I wouldn't have known that I left out info otherwise. In fact, that's the entire idea of this chapter; to give off memories. *And now, the chapter you've probably been waiting for, this is (insert random radio station) at (random time). (Random city)'s easy reading station.*

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

(T. Imperator)

(Florida Base)

(1813 hours)

"—and there were no survivors," said the reporter on TV. The screen went black.

There was an awkward moment of silence. The silence was killing him.

"Lies," said Firestorm. "They lied. Of course there were survivors, or else that airport would be nothing but rubble. That boy, whoever he is, destroyed our attack forces. If there were no survivors, then our forces would have moved to the next major monument." Another awkward silence.

A soldier collapsed, and everyone went to a defensive position. The fallen soldier snored, and Tyrannosaurus face-palmed himself. We need a bigger coffee budget, he noted to himself.

"Well, how will we fix that, General," asked his father.

"A bigger budget on coffee," Tyrannosaurus said. There was a murmur of laughter throughout the room.

"We're already spending six thousand American dollars on coffee, and you mean to tell me that we're not spending enough?"

"Well, if you want that to happen again," the boy said, gesturing to the sleeping soldier. "Then we don't have to, am I right?"

"Understood, but we still don't have enough money. How do we get THAT? We can't just rob a bank, can we," Firestorm challenged.

"Actually, I was thinking about Wall Street," the General said.

If there were an American phrase long enough to describe the silence, Tyrannosaurus would have been surprised. "Wall Street's not a bank, it's a news station," a soldier finally said. The soldier kicked at the sleeping soldier's feet.

"I'm awake, Mommy," the sleeping soldier called out. The room was instantly filled with laughter. "What? What did I do?"

"Go to the dormitory to sleep, John," a soldier replied.

"Okay." John got up and stumbled over his own feet out of the room. Some of the men laughed at John's misfortune.

(30 minutes later)

As I got into his bed, I remembered what had happened to his mother, and why I wanted vengeance against America. Once I had lain down on his mattress, thank goodness made from China, the flashbacks started. My eyes closed, and I could feel rage boil inside of me as I relived the moment my mother was killed.

As soon as I was completely asleep, I saw where my mother was killed, right before she was killed. I was on the same streets that John F. Kennedy was shot. I saw the bullet fly out of the chamber thousands of times, but this one was the worst, as I saw that my mother wasn't the only one killed. I saw the little boy before, but I didn't realize who it was until now. It was the same boy who caused the massive explosions at Dallas. It was my previous target… James Quincy Wayne.

Young James held tightly to his mother as if this was the last time he would see her. His mother coaxed him to release his grip, and the soldiers tore him away from his mother. The leader held a gun to her forehead and fired. The shot was instantly fatal. Seconds later, I heard another bang, except louder, and I understood why my mother fell before she was shot. James exploded with a massive shockwave, knocking down tens of soldiers, killing most of them, and sent a piece of molten shrapnel straight towards my mother's foot. I relived the pain of my mother falling, telling me to run, being shot right before my eyes. But then my dream changed, continuing to the part of that memory that I swore I would never relive again. I turned towards James, when he turned and ran, dropping the note I still have today. I ran and picked it up, and began to read.

"To my son, James," it said. "I am sorry that I had to make you witness your mother's death, but I had to, or else future events would not have happened. I loved your mother dearly, so I shall send her soul to the Heavens, where she will have a new body and a new home. You, too, I will eventually send there, but until then, you must learn to control yourself. I love you like the other Olympians should their own children should, Primus."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the note, and before I knew it, my alarm went off. I opened my eyes, and I felt warm wet streaks fall down my eyes. I must give this note to James, I thought. I felt it to be right, for him to have felt so sad over his mother's unjust murder to not have this note from his true father. Primus, I asked myself as I walked over to the cafeteria, where have you been, since this boy has been grieving? Please, help this boy.

Once I arrived at the cafeteria, I saw a group of people with their backs to me. Well, this is bad.

"So, who's this to, Tyrannosaurus? Your son?" A soldier teased.

"Hand it here," I ordered, quite annoyed.

"Okey-doke, captain," he said, tossing the stolen note to me. I should really make a rule to where only guards have the graveyard shift.

"Thank you, you robber. I hope you didn't vandalize this boy's property. Now, I must leave to return this note to the boy."

"Who is this boy," a gruff voice called.

"My previous target, sir," I returned to Firestorm, still quite drunken with sleep from the amount of melatonin he took last night. I really should have warned him. "Why are you drunken?"

"Drunken? Boy, I am not drunk. I am just tired. I didn't get to sleep 'til midnight. How much sleep did you get?"

I knew that if I told him, then he'd try to destroy the letter, so I decided not to say anything. I faked phasing out and snoring.

"I know you're hiding something, so just tell me. I won't do a thing to anything of yours." I knew that was coming. Okay, I told myself, this guy is making me excruciatingly angry.

Finally, when I had enough of his pestering, I just stuffed my earphones in my ears. And that just made it worse, because he was literally in my head. I rolled my eyes and went to the café to get some coffee. He was following me. I could tell because I could hear his footsteps. I turned the music on my MP3 full blast, which should've blown my eardrums out, but my ears were so calloused from the yelling I have to do early mornings that they were used to that loud music. I smiled, as the music was Skillet music. I looked down to the song title, and my smile grew. My favorite of the rock songs; Monster, done by Skillet.

Can I kill him now, I asked myself. Now that's disgusting, Firestorm, I mentally scolded him. He was so groggy with sleep that he was flirting. With one of the coat racks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see someone still following me. Okay, that's it. I whirled around, and saw who was following me. The same guard who stole the note from my room.

"What do you want, boy," I yelled in his face.

"Who's the note to," he said plainly.

"Answer my question first."

"You know what I want, now answer my question."

"You're not the one giving the orders, and that information is not for you to know."

"You will tell me what I want, and THAT is an order." Now I'm steamed. Who does he think he is?

"You tell me why you want the information first."

"So then I can offer you help. About your true father." True father? What on earth is he talking about?

"My true father? What do you mean, my true father," I asked, stunned.

"Tell me the answer, and I'll tell you."

I sighed. I had lost this battle already. "Don't tell anyone else," I said in a hushed tone. "The letter is to James Quincy Wayne, the same one who took out our catapults."

He shrugged. "I figured as much. And about your true father, Firestorm isn't really your father. He's your adopted father. No one knows about your true father but me. And his name is—." A sword protruded from his chest before he could finish.

"He is Mwiwiz," he finished, clearly dying. Blood was gurgling out of his mouth as he spoke. He took a weak hand of his and brushed my heart. "Urr arrt ill idd oooouuuuuuu." And with a last breath, he fell like a boulder falling down a mountain. My heart will guide me. That's what my mother said before she died. Tears welled up in my eyes. This is the second person I watched die. I will not let another person die in my arms.

Rage boiled inside of me. I know who killed him. No one else but Firestorm carries a sword. He faked out, just like I did. I looked up, glaring up at him in the eye, letting him know that this was not over, and that eventually I would kill him.

"You did this to yourself, Jonathan. You deserve this. Eventually, I will kill you, too." Firestorm said, looking at me, and I instantly knew what he meant. He was the one who killed my mother. My real name was not Tyrannosaurus Imperator, and that the fallen soldier was right. He is not my father.

"No," I shouted. He took my response by surprise. "I did not kill this soldier. I did not kill my mother. I did not live on my own for ten years for nothing, running away for nothing. You killed my mother and this soldier. You chased me down for ten years before finally adopting me. No, you will not eventually kill me. Oh, no you won't. No, I will. I will kill you eventually. I will right two wrongs that you have blamed on me. I will return the ball to your court, and you will not be able to stop me. You do not own me. I am not yours. No, I am free, Firestorm. You cannot stop me now."

I stood, turned, transformed, surprisingly into a truck, and ran, more driving than running.

"After him," I heard my faux pas father yell to his soldiers. I hoped to myself that I would never see his face again. Too bad for me that I would see these soldiers for a little while longer. Once I lost these soldiers, I would deliver this message to James, but for now, I have to get rid of these soldiers, or else they would attempt to kill me on sight.

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SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, how did I do? Tell me in a review, please. And please don't get angry with me because it took so long, because I do have a temper. For the guest reviewer who told me about my micro-mistake, thank you for the info again, I really appreciate it. Anyone want to suggest an OC character, go on ahead, suggest in a review. And no, I am not demanding any reviews, I want only viewers, that's all I want. I just want to be recognized, that's all. See ya'll next chapter.

And, by the way, I'm currently making a Minecraft manhunt fanfic. As of now, I need a few OC characters (real player names, preferably) to be in the first chapter. Tell me your nicknames as well. Be sure that your descriptions of skins are accurate. If you don't, then I will describe your skin as a regular Steve skin. If you are a fan of Skydoesminecraft, ASFJerome, theBajanCanadian, Ssundee, or any other major Minecraft youtuber or player, tell me. If you'd be so kind as to put all of that into a review, that would be awesome. NOW, see ya'll next chapter. Jeez, I am stupid somedays.


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